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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27894535">Jessie Seymour Irvine - Crimond</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/republic/pseuds/republic'>republic</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Theme and Variations [5]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Spirit - George Roux (Painting 1885)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Gen, Yuletide Madness Drabble Invitational</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 16:54:33</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>100</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27894535</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/republic/pseuds/republic</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Theme and Variations [5]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2086002</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Yuletide Madness 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Jessie Seymour Irvine - Crimond</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deepdarkwaters/gifts">Deepdarkwaters</a>.</li>



    </ul></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It has been a hard day — the funeral of the man's sister, who died tragically young. He is sat alone in the music room, having one more brandy than is perhaps strictly wise, when suddenly there she is, sitting at the piano.</p><p>He is too shocked to do anything but sit and stare, as she plays the hymn tune they'd sung earlier. He sits and listens, and he weeps afresh — truly she is now walking in death's dark vale.</p><p>But as she reaches the end, the ghost turns to him and smiles, and he knows she is finally at peace.</p>
  </div></div>
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